


Cabin Fever

by whimsicalmuse



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-23
Updated: 2004-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalmuse/pseuds/whimsicalmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simply put, hot car, hand job smut. The end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cabin Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the [Monaboyd.net Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Monaboyd.net), which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Monaboyd_Archive/profile).

When Billy thought back he decided he ought to send Viggo a pot of flowers or something, because the truth of the matter was, it was the best goddamn camping trip of his life.

As well as the worst fucking camping trip he’d ever been on.

Like everything else they did, the decision to pack up and head out to the woods was something decided on the tail end of an afternoon, during a rare week in which the actors had two consecutive days off. They snatched up semi-clean sleeping bags, the few bunched up tents from their past excursions, and crammed into a small line of cars, left the noise and bustle of the city, and took to the woods.

Billy was quietly excited about the trip, mainly for the privacy it afforded, because he knew he’d be left alone with Dom, and he had a bone to pick with the lad.

Er, no pun intended.

Since Dominic Monaghan had breezed into the dressing room, a lithe palate of peaches and cream, with summertime azure eyes, and smoky cropped tufts of hair atop his head, Billy had sat back, let the twinge in his belly simmer for a bit, cool and collected.

He was a patient man, and from what he gathered, Dom was still a bit too jittery for his tastes.

So, he was content to watch from afar.

Friendship got in the way shortly thereafter, and complicated things, until Billy wasn’t so sure about his plans for Dom anymore.

Sure, he wanted the lad, _boy_ , did he ever, but did he want to risk several months of awkwardness, or even worse, pure hatred, if things grew sour?

Sometimes, he was sure that the taking would be worth it. He just needed one taste of the salt and fire of Dom’s lips, he just needed to feel the ginger stubble against his upper lip just one time, and Dom would be out of his system for good, and he could move on with his life.

But sometimes, he wasn’t so sure.

Sometimes, especially when Dom would curl like a cat on his ratty leather sofa and softly whisper all about his homesickness, well, that was when Billy would feel more than just a bit like a tosser.

Because he knew then on those tea and comfort filled afternoons that he wanted companionship just as much as he wanted the burn and satisfaction of having Dom as a lover.

So he teetered.

He was told once by a gypsy he was a Virgo, but by the time Viggo announced the camping trip he was feeling more like a Gemini, because one minute he’d want so badly to tear the worn long cut offs from Dom’s thighs, and the next he’d kindly ask the guy if his allergies were bothering him overmuch.

It was quite tiring really.

The heat of the day, full summer in late November, didn’t help things either, because it felt to Billy like every brush of fingertips left tiny welts on his skin, which were only cooled by the pools of sweat that seemed to be taking over his body.

Dom, bless him was oblivious, too busy insulting Viggo’s taste in campsites: so near the lake and the mosquito’s lair, which further exacerbated things.

Dominic was allergic to everything that moved out there, and two thirds of the things that didn’t.

Poor lad couldn’t even appreciate the trees, trees he fell so in love with, with their moss covered trunks and pollen laced leaves, so instead he holed up in the car, lips pursed in a full rosy pout.

The sight of which left Billy no choice but to join him, rolled up windows and all.

Bill was used to the leering from the others, so he pointedly ignored the cat calls and drunken leers they tossed at him, once nightfall settled and he announced his decision to join Dominic.

Once inside, he slid onto the seat, cursing vinyl in the summertime, and breathlessly greeted Dom, who was leaning his head back against the headrest, mouthing words to a soft song on the radio.

Coldplay, from the sound of things.

Dom didn’t seem overly impressed with Bill’s dedication to his friend, he didn’t even open his eyes, he just _sat there_ and hummed.

After a few long seconds, Billy decided to break the ice.

That is, if he could ignore the way Dom’s thigh muscles flexed and relaxed in sync with the music.

“Dommie, I.” His hand reached out, it had a brain of its own, honestly, and landed right smack dab on top of Dom’s thigh, and settled there.

Billy swallowed.

“I’m sorry this has been such a shite trip for you.”

Dom grunted, still murmuring off key to the music, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“But I bet the bugs will fall back as the night goes on, and maybe you can go into the tent I set up for us.”

Dom’s lids fluttered as if he wanted to open his eyes, but still, _still_ he didn’t.

To make matters worse, Billy’s fingers decided to thrum against the warm damp skin, almost to the music.

Finally, the man spoke.

“It’ll be bugs there, I’ll be eaten alive.” The pout returned, leaving no room for humming, and Billy smiled indulgently.

The lad was adorable when sulking.

“It’ll be cooler outside Dom, and I’ll put up the bug screen.”

He patted Dom’s knee.

“I won’t let the wild things get you.”

A juvenile joke tinkered in the back of his mind, and though he silently admonished himself, his cock twitched, stirred by the images of their naked bodies writhing on the tent floor that flashed in his mind.

Cabin fever.

If he didn’t get Dom out of this car soon, he’d suffer from cabin fever.

The rational part of his mind was explaining the definition of the malady, but he couldn’t be arsed into caring because Dom had chosen that moment to peel his shirt off, and let out a noise that sounded caught between a sigh and a grunt, and made Billy wonder what noises he’d make hard and alive beneath him.

Again the logical cognizant part of him shifted to noises of food, and some American treat called “S’mores” and he knows he told Dominic about them, but for some reason, Dom still wasn’t really listening, he was rubbing his hand over his chest absentmindedly and groaning about the heat and the humidity of the car.

The voice, his voice, that was trying to carry on a conversation was now forgotten; Bill could only hear the rush of blood in his pants, and the wet whoosh of Dom’s breath against the foggy windows, and he tried, really tried hard not to jump up and straddle Dom, and rub their cocks together to the rhythm of the song on the radio.

Dom, damn him, was still oblivious, was still letting out low rumbling noises along with the song, which, from what Bill could recognize was thoroughly inappropriate because the song was about something cold, at least Billy thought it was, because why else would Dom keep repeating the word “shiver” over and over again?

Then Bill did shiver, low in his back and them up out to his shoulder blades, because Dom’s hand trailed down to his belly, fingering the patch of hair below his belly button, and Billy wanted to know what that patch of musky hair smelled like so bad his teeth ached, and he had to look away to the watery outline of the trees to concentrate.

Conversation, yes, he was having a conversation.

But damned if Billy could remember what they were talking about, not that it mattered, because Dom didn’t seem to give a damn, he was too busy rocking his hips slowly, eyes closed, lips parted as if he was having the best waking wet dream ever, the outline of his cock clearly visible through the denim and maybe it was a trick of the moonlight and fire but if Bill didn’t know better he thought he’d seen a tiny bead of a wet spot, right there on his crotch, and the sight sent a bolt of heat straight to his cock, and oh!

When did his hand trail down between Dom’s legs, and who told his fingers they could caress the crease in the jeans where Dom’s thigh met his torso?

God, then Bill could _smell_ Dom, like honey and pine needles, trapped and smoky in the heat of the car, and his mouth watered, really, because all he wanted to do was dip his head down low, past the steering wheel and _taste_ , licking and sucking until Dom’s hips bucked sharply and the whole damn forest knew Billy had done that to him.

But part of his brain was still on top of things, and heard the not so distant laughter of their friends, and Bill was a lot of things, but he was no flamboyant exhibitionist, he’d not have the first time he got Dom off with his mouth be so public. But the need was still there and his fingers still itched, complaining to his brain to make up its mind and _do_ something, and fast before his heart short circuited and his cock imploded.

Indecision hovered, pressing against Bill’s back, as he worried the corner of his lip, eyes fixed on Dom’s damp flushed face, and he asked himself for the thousandth time, “Should I?”

“Bills?”

Billy blinked, surprised to finally see his bright eyes.

“Dom…”

“Please.”

And then Dom squirmed, made _his_ intentions clear, and was that worry he’d seen reflected in Dom’s eyes, or had the cabin fever set in?

It didn’t really matter, because Dom had given his permission, and he was taking him up on that offer, flicking open the button fly with his index finger and thumb, pausing to swirl the pearl of liquid that pooled at the warm head of Dom’s cock.

He smiled when Dom moaned, and held a finger up to his lips.

They were, after all, still close to the campsite.

He scooted closer, blushing when the car rocked with his movement, and drew his focus into what he was doing, to the silken heat he held in his sweaty palm, and he felt so alive, _Dom_ felt so alive, that it was as if he was stroking _himself_ and each hot and shaking breath Dom took was his own.

His pulsed raced.

He leaned closer still, until his pupils dilated and the sharp lines of Dom’s face eased into a panting blur, and just listened to the soft sigh, or garbled cry Dom whispered, squirming especially when Bill sped up and twisted his wrist in a way he fancied when having a fast wank in the shower.

Dom’s cock was slick now, and pulsing rapidly, and Bill’s face hovered still, stealing each breath Dom took and tasting it, as if he could taste Dom’s kiss already, though sometimes, the urge to just slip his tongue out and _take_ was too much, and he’d have to pull away, press his lips against Dom’s pink ears, and gently encourage him.

“Yeah, Dommie, for me, come for me.”

Somehow those words were like greased lightening for Dom, and his hips snapped up wildly, meeting each stroke with a counter thrust, and Dom tore his head back, eyes rolled, as Billy pumped him, silently missing the curtain of moist breath against his neck.

Dom must have felt it, because he rolled his neck down, until his face was but a breath away from Bill’s and hovered there, eyes dark and hungry, as his hips rocked until he was erratic, and the veins in his throat throbbed.

To Bill the sweaty cleft in Dom’s chin called him, so he gave in, and slid his tongue into the dip in the stubble covered skin, pulling back to smile, and then press his lips _just so_ until they were touching, but not kissing.

He wanted to feel Dom’s orgasm in the breath he took, before the warmth flooded over the top of his hand.

He didn’t have to wait long. One more gentle but insistent ” Come, Dominic” against the lad’s ear, and then he pulled back to press his lips against Dom’s gasping as he felt the heat pour over his knuckles, while Dom choked out a gasp against his lips.

Bill smiled then, pulling his hand back to slide a finger into his mouth and taste the bittersalt tang. Before he could finish cleaning up, Dom’s mouth devoured his, slowly mapping his mouth, from the sharp points of his canines, to the curl of his bowtie lips, and when he pulled away, it was Bill’s turn to be breathless and trembling.

Dominic smiled, kissed him wetly on the lips again, and laughed, breathless.

“Took you long enough, Bill,” the younger man sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again, bright and glittering.

Billy blinked, still in shock, but not so much as to not know when his friend was up to something.

The crickets sung, the fire crackled, and against the soft conversation his friends were having not 10 feet away, Billy leaned forward, and whispered to his friend.

“What are you thinking, Dom?”

He needed to know, because if this was a mistake…

Dom grinned.

“Your turn.”


End file.
